


Arrested For Being Too Hot By Someone Who Is Also Too Hot And Should Be Arrested For It But He Is The Law So No

by Grubbutts



Series: Mini Fic Jamboree [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bro gets caught but he's cool with it, Crimes & Criminals, Flirting, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, fbi agent dadbert, info thief bro, server farm, warehouse fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 21:06:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grubbutts/pseuds/Grubbutts
Summary: Bro's a big criminal who steals info from data centers while taunting the handsome FBI agent that's on his case. But he becomes a little too interested in that agent and he screws up, leading the two of them to a showdown of sorts.





	Arrested For Being Too Hot By Someone Who Is Also Too Hot And Should Be Arrested For It But He Is The Law So No

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragoneisha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoneisha/gifts).



> brodad, dad beats bro up for being a little shit and bro is just. "holy fuck. this is the ideal man."  
> ~Dragoneisha
> 
> ((I ended up writing a lil more than I expected lmao

He fucked up.

Ambrose fucked up big time. He's always been a fan of tickling the scrotum of the law, that scrotum being the devilishly handsome Agent Egbert, but he got a little too close to the thick veiny member this time and now he's boned. The heist was supposed to be as seamless as it always is; in, out, data in hand and slapping his ass for the cameras and FBI to see. 

But, he fucked up.

Bro got lazy when running through the checks and surveillance at the server farm. It's one thing to have a lot of know how on the subject of hacking, it's another to know the hardware side of networking. Stealing information is a valuable asset in the modern internet age, secrets of all kinds that most will pay a fortune for; bank account numbers, company plans, surveillance, anything and everything. Now depending on your average data center there's always people around the clock keeping an eye on things, cabling racks, moving servers, a litany of things to keep everything running. But one thing for sure is that it's a hell of a lot less people than would be in a bank.

Or so he thought on this latest one.

It was a General Mills data center. Most people don't think twice about the servers for a corporation in charge of making mass amounts of food, but there's a particular company that had caught Bros eye-- Betty Crocker. There's something fishy going on there, and Bro was going to get to the bottom of it.

At the same time, the FBI were trying to get to the bottom of Bro. A plus or minus depending on how Bro was feeling and whether or not he had seen or spoken to Agent Egbert that day. But they had the drop on him, that's for sure. They planted one of their own amongst the employees at the farm weeks ahead of time when Bro first began his surveillance, but he was too preoccupied with teasing that handsome scrotum of a man (though to be fair Egbert himself is more of the very loving idea of a scrotum rather than the looks of one. He's a handsome man, and very enticing, carrying a delicious weight with each step). 

Bro gained the nickname “Puppet Master” by the FBI, from both the way his heists were practically perfectly machiavellian and planned, but also because he would send puppets to the FBI. Homemade, hand sewn, cursed looking things to taunt them. Apparently Egbert took a liking to them, especially the more clown looking ones. Call it flirting, call it being an asshole, but Bro began making more harlequin type dolls and puppets specifically for him. Simply to be a tease.

He was too busy creating one of these puppets during his research and surveillance that he ended up being caught red fucking handed in the middle of a data transfer, reveling in the warm heat of the servers. Bro had to leave his equipment to run as fast as he could, hopping onto his motorcycle and speeding off as the red and blue lights of freedom flashed behind him with sirens ablaze. 

The cold winter Washington wind bit his face, turning his pale cheeks a ruddy red. But the most atrocious part about his appearance was his lack of helmet, he was in so much of a hurry that he didn't have the chance to put it on. It's possibly more upsetting than the more pressing situation at hand. Regardless, it's not snowing enough at the moment for his bike to slip and slide so he manages to outrun the FBI but just barely.

Bro hops off his motorcycle and rushes into his warehouse by the Seattle docks, speeding past his bullshit of sewing supplies, his own servers, swords, a big homely mess of bullshit he's made for himself. He runs across the wide expanse of his makeshift home towards the lockbox with his passports and stash of money when a voice stops him in his tracks.

“Freeze! You're under arrest, Ambrose.”

Bro does so, twisting to turn around and look at the door where Agent Egbert stands with his gun drawn, in his crisp black vest and tie with pleated charcoal black pants Bro knows that he bought on sale at the nearby Mens Warehouse, something from last season.

Perhaps he spent more time than necessary researching the wrong thing, landing him in the situation he's in now. 

“Nice to see a friendly warm face, I was beginning to get a little cold. You gonna cuddle up with me by a nice warm fire?” Bro teases, putting his arms up in mock surrender, taking a step closer. It seems like Egbert is the first one to get here, sirens echo only in the distance. It must be just to the two of them.

Egbert tsks and shakes his head, “We'll have to see about that. But I'm sure there's a number of men willing to cuddle with a handsome man in person,” he cocks a well groomed brow and takes a step closer to Bro.

“So you think I'm handsome?” A step closer.

“You're still a long way from gentlemanly,” a step closer.

“What I'm getting here is that the good looking Agent Egbert, hot shot of the FBI, thinks I'm handsome,” Bro purrs with another step.

“Ah, so you think I'm handsome too?” Egbert smirks with another step.

“Does the opinion of a criminal matter to you?” a final step.

“Possibly,” the final step.

They stand a few feet apart, Agent Egbert cocking his gun in Bros face, dual smirks as tension sparks and flames between them. In one quick move Bro disarms Egbert, twisting the gun out of his hand and tossing it to the side. They don't need it anyway.

Both of them know it was never loaded in the first place. 

Egbert takes the opportunity to swing his arm, landing a fist on Bros face, busting a cheek and pushing the man back. Pain bursts in Bros jaw but all he does is smile and regain his footing, spitting out blood from his cheek before charging at the agent. 

They trade blows with fists, kicks, Egbert gaining cuts and bruises, Bro gaining even more. There might have been a kiss in there somewhere but it's hard to tell. Bro lands in a pit of smuppets, jumping back up to kick Ebgert in the ribs when the man himself catches his leg, twisting and tossing him across a few feet, landing on and breaking his wooden desk. Splinters scatter everywhere and dust filters through the air, sirens approaching but neither man cares.

Egbert reaches down to grab the collar of Bros shirt, pulling him up. But Bro uses this momentum to land a solid hit on the guy, pushing him back and making him stagger a few steps. The normally well put together man is not quite well put together now as he wipes blood from the corner of his lips with his dress sleeve. He’s breathing hard and heavy, covered in bruises while the smug bastard who put them there is standing before him looking too alluring to be legal. Guess it's a good thing he's already a criminal. Bro charges at him again, but Egbert isn't so dumb as to believe that he'll do the same trick twice. Sure enough Bro quickly skirts around Egbert and lunges for the middle, and it's expected. Almost laughable even to Egbert as he slides to the side out of Bros way and elbows his back, making Bro land harshly against the floor with a groan.

It's a nice groan.

Bro quickly leaps to his feat but his legs are quickly swiped out from underneath him, dropping him onto the ground. Egbert places his black leather oxford shoe that he gets shined every Tuesday, on Bros back, pressing down between his shoulder blades. He rolls up his sleeves exposing toned forearms with the dusting of dark hair and a smug grin on his face. Egbert’s panting and he smooths his waxed hair back as a brigade of police and FBI cars pull up to the warehouse.

“As I was saying, you are under arrest Ambrose.”

Bro has a hard time breathing, probably because of a few broken ribs, his possible concussion, but most of all it's probably from the hot guy stepping on him. It's a good thing his front his pressed against the ground, his dick is harder than a rock and the hard place which is both the cement ground as well as the situational fact that he is now arrested. His shit is thoroughly wrecked and if anyone else were to be the one to wreck it, Bro would be pissed.

But he's not.

“Promise me you'll visit me in prison, James?”

“It's a little insulting that you would question that.”

Handcuffs are snapped around Bros wrists, and he's forcefully pulled up and made to stand by the police that quickly file into the warehouse, surrounding him and cataloging his stuff.

“It's a date then,” he says.

“It'll be many, Ambrose.”

And Bro gets taken away.

Egbert follows.


End file.
